


As Long as There is Hope

by FrozenMemories



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27165247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenMemories/pseuds/FrozenMemories
Summary: Tumblr prompt: Miller is dealing with the grief and guilt of losing his dad while Jackson tries to comfort him.
Relationships: Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	As Long as There is Hope

Jackson found Miller sitting by himself in the dimly lit dormitory. He almost hadn’t seen him, cowered into the corner of the bottom bunk, legs pulled tight against his chest. There were other people, too; some asleep and some talking in hushed voices, but Jackson only cared for one person in particular.

“There you are,” he greeted softly, crouching down beside the bed. He longed to crawl onto the mattress, to lean against the wall and pull Miller close to his chest. But _this_ was still new. They hadn’t really defined where they stood in regard to each other or what their boundaries were. Doubt still lingered, making him fear that Miller didn’t want the closeness and would prefer to be left alone. He’d dodged Jackson’s offer to talk earlier that day, after all. And now he wasn’t even reacting. His stare just blankly bore into the rough, grey sheets.

“I just wanted to see how you’re holding up,” Jackson continued, his tone apologetic. “I can leave if you’d rather be alone.”

He carefully observed as Miller sucked in his bottom lip and remained stoically quiet. He looked so young, reminding Jackson that he was just shy of nineteen.

“Look, I know this is a lot to deal with,” he began, unable to just leave Miller sitting there, looking so lost, “I won’t impose myself on you, I just want you to know I’m here for you.”

Miller still hadn’t met his gaze.

“As a friend,” he added reluctantly.

Between the recent loss of his boyfriend as well as any other friend Miller had made over the course of the many months spent on Earth, and the profound grief of losing his father, he was well aware that Miller wasn’t in a state of mind to be pressured into deepening the tentative bond they had built on their journey to Becca’s Island.

He was surprised that his last words were what it took for Miller to look up. His brows were furrowed but something in his face softened.

“Stay,” the word came out as barely a breath, but a hand on Jackson’s wrist added weight to it. He couldn’t help but smile.

The smallest hint of a smirk appeared on Miller’s face, only to be replaced by a sad frown moments later. Jackson’s heart sank at the sight.

Kicking off his boots he climbed onto the bed and sat beside Miller, shoulders touching but no further pressure emanating from his body, ever afraid of pushing too hard.

They sat in silence, not unpleasantly so, but Jackson’s thoughts were racing, searching for the right thing to say for comfort. He felt Miller’s arm shift against his with the movement of his hands wringing each other on top of Miller’s tented knees. The urge to reach out and cover them grew stronger but something held him back.

“He gave his life. For mine.”

Jackson bit his lip as he processed the words.

“Kane told me.”

Miller kept his voice low, mindful of the other occupants of the room. He sniffed once, harshly, and wiped at his eyes in an almost angry gesture.

“He made him promise.”

Finally, Jackson gave into his body’s instincts and put a hand on Miller’s forearm.

“He wanted you to live,” he mumbled, as hushed as Miller had spoken before.

“I wanted him to live, too.”

Tears began to sting at the corners of his eyes, in the face of Miller’s evident heartbreak.

“Come here,” he choked out quietly and offered the only thing he could think of at the moment – the comfort of his arms.

Miller didn’t hesitate to lean into them, though Jackson felt his body tensing in the embrace, most likely in effort of holding back on the sobs he could feel simmering beneath the surface.

It felt so natural to wrap Miller up in his arms, to let his hand come up against the back of his head and to hold him quietly for what seemed like hours. Gradually, Miller relaxed against him, sagging further into him, accompanied by sounds of muffled sniffles and occasional sighs. Encouraged by Miller’s body language Jackson allowed himself to rest his head more firmly against the top of Miller’s, breathing in his scent.

He wanted nothing more than to hold him and never let go. The intensity of these feelings was overwhelming. He barely remembered the last time he’d craved this kind of closeness with anyone. It was both hopeful and frightening. Miller had shown definite signs of reciprocating his interest but also made it clear he wasn’t ready for anything resembling a relationship yet.

Jackson was going to take what he could get, even if it seemed desperate, but he wasn’t going to push.

His thoughts kept spinning in circles and he got so lost in them he nearly jumped when gentle fingers grazed his cheek to garner his attention. Firmly, Miller guided Jackson’s face back enough to make eye contact with him.

“Thanks,” he whispered and dropped his lids, leaning forward to touch their foreheads together.

Jackson found himself at a loss for words. _You’re welcome,_ seemed too trite and impersonal, and smothering him in knowledge on the psychological aspects of grief and survivor’s guilt seemed even more uncalled for. Thankfully Miller relieved him from the pressure of having to come up with a reply by speaking up again.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he offered quietly, “But I don’t consider you a friend.”

The sentence stung momentarily, until Jackson remembered his own words from earlier and realization began to slowly set in.

“I might need some time but I’d like us to be more than that.”

Jackson opened his eyes to be rewarded with a beautiful, if slightly subdued smile that warmed his chest with unfamiliar emotions.

“We got five years,” he quipped enthusiastically. Not his smoothest sentiment by far but Miller’s eyes did light up with something that made him hopeful again.

“We do,” he confirmed before he slowly leaned in for a chaste kiss.


End file.
